


a flower that blooms at night

by drunkenshrimp (svnwritten)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: 80s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Baekhyun is Whipped for Jongdae, Baekhyun is a punk, Fantastic Racism, Jongdae is Sucker for Baekhyun, Jongdae is a hippie, M/M, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Supernatural Elements, They are stressed and gay but pretend they aren't, Vampires, lots of smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27308059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svnwritten/pseuds/drunkenshrimp
Summary: He was a hippie vampire, mindset stuck in the 60s, and he was a punk neck-deep in the 80s. Can I make it more obvious?
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Kim Jongdae | Chen
Comments: 22
Kudos: 55





	1. a shooting star

**Author's Note:**

> I had this tradition that I post a halloween-special fic every year.  
> I usually write my Halloween fics just for fun so don't expect too much especially since it has not been beta-read! (beware of typos my friends)  
> Nonetheless, I hope you're gonna have fun reading!
> 
> tw for death mention, blood and recreational drug use
> 
> PS Baekhyun smokes a lot in this fic. Smoking is bad kids. Don't be like Baekhyun

Baekhyun saw him for the first time in the middle of the street at midnight. He was laughing so loudly and sharply that the sound itself made Baekhyun shake to the core. He almost fell from his balcony.

There was someone else with him. A man with a face cut of marble and dark hair pushed to the back. That man didn’t look amused at all. He didn’t laugh. 

The year 1986, cold November, the outskirts of Chicago and two men standing under the brilliant moonlight: a man who looked like a Greek god and a flower child blossoming under the silver glow. They didn’t look normal. They barely looked real: a creature straight from renaissance paintings, looking anything but pleased and a hippie stolen by fate from the colorful 60s, draped in flowers and colors that looked vivid even in the middle of the night. 

Baekhyun was contemplating falling from his balcony at this flower’s feet. 

His mother had always told him that he was different. Different as rebellious. Different as in cheap hair dye, worn-out t-shirts and eyes rimmed with dark pencil. Finally - different as in falling for angels that fell from the sky or from the past decade. 

Baekhyun gasped.

He didn’t fight the warmth in his chest when he - this angel, this stranger with hair curling into the shape of a halo - and his enchanting laugh, started to slowly turn Baekhyun’s brain into a syrupy shake that Baekhyun used to drink in high school after classes.

The angel swirled, the ill-fitting, loose camel coat was flopping behind him, making the air dance along. The moon was high and so was the angel, or so it seemed. He looked absolutely ecstatic. The look of an utter delight Baekhyun hasn’t seen in a while. 

He leaned over the balustrade of his balcony, melting on the spot as the laugh grew higher. There was no help for him at all. Baekhyun was  _ swooning _ .

“Would you behave yourself, Jongdae?” the other man standing on the street asked. 

_ So Jongdae that was! _ Baekhyun hadn’t known that angels had human names too. He wanted to kiss whoever designed this building for excellent acoustics.

“Ah, please, Sehun! Don’t be boring!” Jongdae laughed loudly. 

Baekhyun had to hold his breath at how beautiful his voice was. 

_ Maybe Jongdae wasn’t an angel after all. Maybe he was a siren, singing sweet songs to the lost ones, looping their hearts on his leather necklace.  _

Jongdae twirled happily once again before throwing his head to the back, letting the moonlight fall on his face, coloring it with gentle silver shade. Baekhyun’s hands gripped the balustrade tighter at the sight of bliss painting on his face. Blood was boiling beneath his skin. 

That was when Jongdae opened his eyes, meeting Baekhyun’s gaze. 

Slowly, he twisted his head around to get a better look at the person standing on the balcony. The wide smile melted into a smirk and the sound died in his throat in favour of silent contemplation. Baekhyun gulped and subconsciously took a tiny step back, finding a home in the shadows granted by walls of the building.

Something sparkled in Jongdae’s dark eyes and Baekhyun could see it even from the second floor. 

That should have been the first red flag.

The man called Sehun followed Jongdae’s path of sight and rolled his eyes.

“See? You drag way too much attention.” he clicked his tongue, clearly displeased.

Never-breaking his eye-contact with Baekhyun, Jongdae huffed with annoyance.

“Oh, please. Look at him, he’s harmless, Sehun.” Jongdae said loudly, by the look on his face, fully aware that Baekhyun would hear him. 

Like he was openly  _ daring _ Baekhyun to respond.

“I guess,” Sehun hummed with a mixture of amusement and distress. 

Baekhyun frowned. Never had someone called him _ harmless _ . Not with his heavy boots, leather jackets and pierced ears. Not with his snarky attitude, sly smirks and the clicking of his tongue. Not with the music blasting out of his car and with the biting scent of Lucky Strikes clinging to his clothes. No. Baekhyun was called many names but  _ harmless  _ wasn’t one of them. 

Now, he was not only enchanted but also  _ intrigued _ . 

Without thinking much, like thunder, he spurted into his room to grab the keys and raced to the door and then - down the stairs. The echo of Jongdae’s laugh was still reverberating in his ears, like a cheerleader’s yell that encouraged him to chase after his dreams. 

Jacket slipping from his shoulders, hair sticking to his forehead, fire burning in his eyes, Baekhyun slammed the front door open, his whole presence spilling on the dark street.

Frantically he looked around, gaze running over the street in search of the flower that was blossoming in the middle of the night minutes ago.

His heart dropped a little, when the realization hit him - the flower was long gone, taking the joy and light with himself and leaving nothing but a maddening scent of “we were so close yet so far”. 

_ Maybe Jongdae was a mirage... _

* * *

Baekhyun saw him for the second time in a crowded club when loud music was roaring around them and Baekhyun was just a little bit intoxicated. Maybe that’s why the flowers on Jongdae’s shirt were of sharper colors, dripping with life and energy that made Baekhyun almost uneasy in his own skin. 

He was painfully aware that they weren’t alone - people dancing on the dancefloor, occupying the barstools and tables.

And all of them seemed to be drawn to Jongdae.

It was quite rare after all - seeing a relic of past decades that smelled of flowers and weed, in the middle of an indie bar, where even the ceiling was soaked with dark colors and heavy liquor. He looked so surrealistic and  _ odd _ that Baekhyun felt his throat clench with excitement. 

With a shaking hand, he ordered a shot of something that would burn him inside-out and drained the content of the glass with one swift motion. It was for courage and for matching his body temperature with the heat in his soul.

When he turned back to the floor, his leather armors were ready to go for a battle and his lips were drawn into a confident barely-there smile.

But Jongdae was already gone as if he was never there. As if he vanished into the thin air. An illusion that was never there.

This time Baekhyun caught his falling heart just on time before it smashed against the cold tiles.

_ Maybe Jongdae was a ghost that, instead of spooking him, would set him on fire and leave without a fire extinguisher. _

* * *

Baekhyun saw him for the third time when he closed his eyes and let the consciousness drift away from him, as he slipped into dreamland. 

In his dream, Jongdae was laughing: a dangerous edge shaping the sound into a flying knife. It was slashing the air, the sharp tip aimed at Baekhyun’s heaving chest. Fear was mixing with excitement and Baekhyun could smell the adrenaline in the air. He could taste it on his tongue and touch it with his fingers.

A shiver ran down his spine, ripping a muffled groan from his throat.

Jongdae grinned at him, seemingly pleased.

“You’re a real  _ honey _ , aren’t you?” he asked all of sudden. 

Baekhyun felt his knees buckle. He reached out to grip Jongdae’s arm, but his nails barely scratched the soft fabric of his shirt. Jongdae swayed backward and Baekhyun’s eyes, like mesmerized, followed a green pendant hanging low on his neck. 

He didn’t notice the hand that came to cup his cheek. His skin spiked with electricity. His mouth fell open in a silent plea. 

“Look at you... turning into a molten glass under my touch,” Jongdae murmured lowly. “We should do it more often, don’t you think?”

Baekhyun nodded with difficulty, head much heavier than he recalled it to be. The sole combination of drowsiness and anticipation was the only thing that kept him standing straight.

Jongdae lightly patted his cheek.

“Find me,” he whispered breathily into Baekhyun’s ear. “I know you will.” he added with a curl of lips, before stepping back and dissolving into the darkness.

_ Maybe Jongdae was simply Baekhyun’s best nightmare and - simultaneously - his worst dream. _

He woke up with fingers gripping the pillow and legs tangled in his sheets. A faint layer of sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. 

He was breathing as if it was his first time tasting the air.

“Goodness gracious,” Baekhyun exhaled, eyes fixed in his shaking hands.

The memories of his dream were quickly fleeting out of his head, escaping through the cracks in the floor and sliding under the door. Hopelessly, Baekhyun tried to catch them before he forgot everything he saw. Everything he experienced. That was all he got afterall.

However, no matter how hard he tried, all he could remember was a glint in Jongdae’s eyes and fire in his soul.

And Baekhyun asked himself: if the dream version of Jongdae was able to push him at the edge of sanity, then would he ever be ready for the real one?

* * *

Baekhyun’s mind was still clouded with the thick smoke that replaced oxygen for him that night when he hoped he would see Jongdae for the fourth time.

He was slowly strolling down the street, steps careful because the last thing he wanted was to trip over and rip his favorite jeans. High on endorphins and satisfaction after a night, meter by meter Baekhyun was re-mapping the way back home. 

With his focus being nothing more but a concept, it was truly a miracle that he heard a hiss coming from the left. He immediately looked this way, his hand flying to the pocket knife hidden in his jacket. Recently, human trafficking was getting worse and worse and he didn’t feel like becoming another number in statistics no one cared about. 

“Is anyone there?” he called, voice still rough after his heated discussion with Chanyeol.

Something akin to a hushed murmur reached his ears and he gripped the knife tighter. The tip of his thumb pressed against the edge of the knife, drawing the tiniest drop of blood.

Another hiss, followed by a more threatening one as if there was no one source but two. 

Baekhyun took a step back and without thinking much started running down the street. His leather, heavy, Dr. Martens boots were shaking the ground beneath him, the vibration matching the erratic beating of his heart. 

He didn’t stop until he reached his street, the familiar sight of a tiny balcony on the second floor of a scrappy tenement house. By then, the pocket knife had drawn enough blood for it to drip down its curve. 

“Gods, what was that?” he breathed out asking himself and ruffled his sweaty hair.

Trying to calm his heart and even out his breathing, Baekhyun started walking to the front door of the tenement. That was when, distantly, he heard the light footsteps behind him. A drop of blood dripped on the ground, painting the cityscape with a splash of violence. 

The knife cut through the air as Baekhyun turned on his heel, ready to sink the blade in whoever dared to come any closer. 

But the street was empty. 

Baekhyun bit his cheek. 

The emptiness reminded him of Jongdae.

_ Maybe Jongdae was a vanishing phantom. The playful type who liked to blend with people, looking for a perfect opportunity to latch at someone and bless them with the magic he was. _

* * *

Baekhyun had lost the count of times he had met Jongdae in his dreams, when he saw him sitting at the bench by the river banks, head tilted backward, the darkness of the night coloring his hair ash grey. 

A relieved curse slipped past Baekhyun’s teeth at the sight. 

It had been  _ so _ long.

The sleeves of Jongdae’s thin coat were brushing against the ground, shoulders completely bare saved from the equally thin white shirt. Sharp edges of his bones were plainly visible even from Baekhyun’s safe hiding behind the maroon Ford Escort. How Jongdae wasn’t cold was beyond Baekhyun's imagination when Baekhyun himself was freezing his hand off in his fingerless gloves and thick leather.

Maybe he was cold but he just didn’t care.  _ Maybe Jongdae was a gust of wind... _

Baekhyun shook his head. He was afraid that if he lost his focus now, Jongdae would disappear like he always did. He had to concentrate on what was real, what he could see when he still had a chance. His eyes traced the line of Jongdae’s neck and the slope of his lips and nose, looking for any hint of a flaw hiding under his skin. Wary of every detail he-

_ Ogling, that’s what he was doing. _

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing, you bandit?” screeched a male voice behind his back. 

Baekhyun’s shoulders jumped and he whipped his head around to see a middle-aged man raging at him furiously, loud cusses falling from his mouth. 

“Touch my car one more time and I will murder you, you dirty punk!” he yelled loudly, finally pushing Baekhyun into motion.

Goosebumps rising on the back of his neck, he quickly stepped away from the ford that he was hiding behind. His hands instantly dug into his pockets and tightly gripped his pocket-knife and ID. Way too many times people had misunderstood his intention and lost their calm completely when he tried to explain.

The man stood right in front of Baekhyun, curses growing harsher and more offensive. Drops of spit were falling on his jacket and if the situation wasn’t verging on dangerous Baekhyun would be absolutely disgusted. 

Don’t react - Baekhyun chanted internally -  _ he will leave you alone if you don’t oppose a threat. _

“How dare you, you dirty punk?” the man dug his finger in the middle of Baekhyun’s chest. “The fucking _audacity_ of trying to steal _my_ _ford_ in front of _my_ _house_!” He pushed Baekhyun against the car.

Baekhyun’s hands were itching to fight, but he knew that if he was just a little bit lucky, the man would leave him alone after a couple of minutes and empty threats. 

“I know your kind, you thug, you-”

“Babe!”  _ Baekhyun shivered, the way he used to shiver in countless of his dreams when Jongdae whispered dark secrets into his ear, _ “Babe! Did you get yourself in trouble again?” 

Baekhyun turned around in slow-motion, begging good gods of capitalism to pull him out of this nightmare. The humiliation and shame crawled up to his high cheeks, mixing with thankfulness and relief as he watched Jongdae jog towards him happily. 

The ford-guy, who was now digging his fingers into Baekhyun’s shoulder, made a confused sound.

Jongdae easily wrapped an arm around Baekhyun's waist, tugging him close. 

Baekhyun started hyperventilating. 

“What’s the heckity heck?” spat out the owner of the infamous Ford Escort, looking confused between the two men. Baekhyun could have asked the same question.

Jongdae chuckled his mouth suspiciously close to Baekhyun’s ear which didn’t help the stability of the other’s breathing. His fingers drummed against Baekhyun’s hipbone.

“My boyfriend-”  _ Baekhyun was pretty sure he whined when Jongdae said this word so easily,  _ “wanted to sneak up on me, silly little thing!” Jongdae lightly pinched Baekhyun’s cheek. “He had no intention of breaking into your car, he just tends to forget about the world when he tries to outsmart me, isn’t that right, honey?” he murmured into Baekhyun’s ear.

Only thanks to years of living as an outcast of society and therefore having nerves of steel, Baekhyun managed to nod weakly.

“Sorry about that,” he added, apology burning his tongue and tips of his ears.

The ford-guy let go of Baekhyun’s arm and backed out a little bit. Jongdae’s palm was by now fully pressed against Baekhyun’s hip. Baekhyun was trying to calculate how long he could go without breathing. 

The ford-guy spat on the ground. 

“Fags.” he hissed through clenched teeth, eyes glued to the hand resting on Baekhyun’s hip. 

Blood rushed beneath Baekhyun’s skin and Jongdae hummed, sound low and thoughtful. From Baekhyun’s perspective, it sounded almost like a purr.

“If it bothers you so much, why won’t you let us go to indulge in our gay little shenanigans away from you?” Jongdae rested his cheek on the top of Baekhyun’s shoulder. The lone strand of his unkempt, messy hair was tickling the skin under Baekhyun’s nose.  _ Absolutely maddening.  _

Even in the faint light coming from the streetlamp nearby, the angry blush on the ford-guy’s cheeks was more than visible.

“Just, g-get out of here!” he spluttered angrily and quickly rushed away mumbling holy litanies and leaving his poor Ford Escort unescorted, despite the threat of possible debauchery.

Jongdae’s hand slipped off Baekhyun's hip, loosening the invisible corset. Now, without the weight on his skin, it was much easier for Baekhyun to breathe again. Hesitantly, as if he was just trying, he took a few deep breaths. His brain cried at the plethora of oxygen.

Hands resting on his knees, as he tried to ground himself, through messy bangs - the tips dyed red - Baekhyun looked at his savior. This time he was at least a little bit prepared for the smile gracing Jongdae’s lips.

“You looked like you could use some help. And considering that you seemed to be pretty engaged in watching me tonight,” Jongdae wiggled his eyebrows, which made Baekhyun flush, “I thought I would lend you a hand. I’m Jongdae by the way.”

Baekhyun bit his lips.

“Baekhyun.” he straightened his back, eyes finding Jongdae’s crinkled ones. “Byun Baekhyun.” 

“Baekhyun, huh?”  _ say it again, gods please say it again.  _ “It’s a pretty name.” Jongdae repeated, clicking his tongue. “So tell me, Baekhyun, why exactly did you watch me like a creep before that prick stalked on you?” The smile shifted from warm to mischievous, voice from caring to taunting.

Baekhyun flushed red. “It wasn’t like that…” he muttered and Jongdae laughed loudly.

“Well, I have the whole night. Plenty of time for you to explain yourself.” 

_ Maybe Jongdae was a knight. In white armor, or in a long trench-coat and shirt decorated with dozens of flowers in full bloom.  _

* * *

“So you’re friends with him now?” asked Chanyeol a few weeks later, running a hand through Jongin’s poorly dyed purple hair.

Baekhyun felt his headache growing stronger with every passing minute and the angry Aerosmith’s songs didn’t help at all. If anything they made him even more annoyed. Along with Chanyeol’s prying question. Baekhyun rubbed his temples.

“I wouldn’t call us friends.” he sighed loudly, “We just… happen to occasionally enjoy each other's company.”

Chanyeol hummed and started carefully applying red hair dye on single strands of Baekhyun’s hair.  _ Plain mullets are boring as hell _ \- that’s what he said and who Baekhyun was to object that. 

“But you wish you were friends, don’t you?” Chanyeol pulled at one of the strands, making Baekhyun hiss. “Dare I say, you wish you were more than that.” 

Without thinking, Baekhyun scooped a bit of red dye with his fingers and dragged them across Chanyeol’s ear.

“Shut up!” he added with a snarl. “None of your business.”

Chanyeol sniggered. Both of them knew that he had already gotten to the bottom of the issue.

* * *

The dreams didn’t stop. If anything they got worse as the Jongdae from his dreams started growing claws. Sharp and deadly, tearing at the edges of Baekhyun’s tear-rimmed eyes, when he gently cupped his cheeks.

Baekhyun always woke up from those dreams startled, intoxicated, gasping for air and starving for something carnal.

* * *

Every time, without a fail, Jongdae entered Baekhyun’s nights like a tornado. He was neither a morning breeze, nor an afternoon gasp of wind. He was a hurricane, glinting in the darkness with a sharp-edged smile, and smelling of poisonous flowers. (They had to be poisonous because Jongdae poisoned Baekhyun’s mind every breathing moment).

A flower so lethal that it could only ever bloom at night. A flower too dangerous for the daylight, possibly capable of outshining the sun.

Baekhyun gulped, shamelessly watching Jongdae’s throat move under the moonlight as he swallowed the liquid from his flask.  _ And bloody hell, it looked so hot, _ at an instant, Baekhyun felt thirsty himself.  _ Get a grip for fuck’s sake.  _

He looked away and started fumbling with a box of cigarettes. 

Jongdae put the flask into the inner pocket of his coat and opened his eyes. There was a tiny wrinkle between his eyebrows and his lips thinned.

“So you  _ do _ smoke,” he said with accusation.

Confused, Baekhyun looked between the cigarette hanging between his fingers and Jongdae’s face. Now that he thought about it, he had never smoked in Jongdae’s presence.

“The stench clinging to my jacket wasn’t foretelling enough?” he laughed with embarrassment.

Jongdae plucked the cigarette out of Baekhyun’s hand and smashed its tip between his fingers. Baekhyun shuddered.

“I hoped it was because of your friends or something.” Jongdae huffed, throwing the damaged cigarette away. His eyes found Baekhyun’s and for the first time, they looked serious. “I don’t like the smell.” he explained shortly.

“Oh,” a furious blush made its way to settle on Baekhyun’s cheeks. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Jongdae’s eyebrows lifted.

“Yeah, sure.” Baekhyun licked his lips. “I can go without smoking when I’m around you.”  _ anything to keep around _ . 

There was a beat of silence and for a hot second, Baekhyun feared that Jongdae could pick up the sound of the racing of his heart. The clock ticked marking another second and suddenly Jongdae’s confusion shifted into the look of a pleasant surprise. 

“That’s sweet, thanks man,” he grinned, flashing his white teeth. Baekhyun had noticed it before but he still marveled how cute his canines were - sharp at the end, making them look like fangs.

He quickly shook his head,  _ not the right place to ponder over the pretty shape of Jongdae’s teeth _ . Baekhyun looked down at the outline of the flask beneath Jongdae’s coat. A sudden wave of smugness tugged his chin up.

“I will stop under one condition,” Baekhyun smirked with satisfaction. He was a bit weak for Jongdae but he wasn’t a wimp, god damn it.

Jongdae laughed shortly, sound lighting up the dark playground like a lightning bolt, and Baekhyun felt himself smiling wider.

“Now he’s making demands, huh?” Jongdae joked, “So be it. The jury will hear you out, Byun Baekhyun.”

“I will stop smoking around you, if you stop intoxicating yourself with whatever you keep in your flask.” Baekhyun declared proudly and reached out to poke the inner pocket of Jongdae’s coat. It was no one’s business that his fingers lingered there for longer than a split of a second. “Either that or you start sharing.” 

A wave of poorly hidden amusement flashed through Jongdae’s eyes. For a moment, he sat just like that: looking at Baekhyun as if he knew a secret that Baekhyun would never learn about.

“You don’t know what you’re asking, Baekhyun.” Jongdae said finally. He looked amused and yet his voice was surprisingly serious.

Baekhyun gulped.

Half of Jongdae’s face was hidden in the shadows, the darkness twisting his features, making his real version resemble its dream’s counterpart even more. A blow of cold shook Baekhyun’s soul. Once again, he realized how very little he knew about Jongdae.

“I’m just trying to make this even.” Baekhyun breathed out.

Jongdae blinked slowly, eyes slipping away from Baekhyun’s, traveling down and down to stop at the level of the collar of Baekhyun’s shirt. His gaze stayed fixed there for a moment before he snorted and shook his head.

“I guess you are right. We are friends after all aren’t we?” just like that the tone turned light again. “So be it. I won’t touch it if you stop smoking around me.”

Baekhyun grinned. “We have a deal then.” he declared happily.

“A deal it is.” Jongdae shook his head with a tiny smile playing in the corners of his lips.

Baekhyun wiggled his fingers under his jacket to warm himself up a bit. Nights were really cold nowadays, he should suggest Jongdae that they could spend time indoors.

“Why do you mind me smoking that much anyway?” he asked after a couple of minutes.

Jongdae shrugged. “My nose is very sensitive. That’s all.”

_ Maybe Jongdae was more human than Baekhyun had ever suspected. _

* * *

Baekhyun found out that Jongdae wasn’t human on Sunday, the Lord’s Day.

It wasn’t easy to get the address out of Jongdae, but once Baekhyun finally acquired it - they leisured at Jongdae’s more often than either of them suspected. Usually, Baekhyun tipped Jongdae off that he would be dropping by, but today was one of the shittiest nights of his entire existence. His neighbors were banging loudly behind his wall, his friends were out flirting with random people in the clubs and Baekhyun? Baekhyun was more than done with this world.

He needed something extraordinary, some kind of thrill down his spine. He needed someone to help him take his mind off reality. 

In other words: He needed Jongdae.

The walls of the staircase were dirty, long dark smudges left by smoke and something potentially filthy were covering almost every possible space as Baekhyun climbed up, trying to swallow down the taste of smoke on his tongue. 

He didn’t bother knocking on the front door of Jongdae’s tiny flat, situated on the highest floor of a building. He never did before, why would he do that now? So what if Jongdae would be pissed? Baekhyun could manage that. 

The door opened quietly, for once, as if they were Baekhyun’s allay in this unexpected visit. Careful not to make any noise, he locked the door behind himself, confining himself in the narrow space of Jongdae’s hallway. He took a shallow breath in and that’s when he smelled  _ something _ .

The metallic scent that aggressively replaced the familiar smell of thyme and lavender.

Baekhyun recognized traces of blood in the air as soon as he smelled it.

The tips of his fingers turned cold, all kinds of catastrophic scenarios running through his head. Something rustled behind the wall, a hushed voice, followed by a tiny whimper. Baekhyun reached for his pocketknife.

He could almost see it with his own eyes: _ someone following Jongdae home, tempted with his blonde halo and teased by the quirk of his lips, someone breaking into Jongdae’s place when he was relaxed and vulnerable, Jongdae fighting back - spitting poison and leaving kitten scratches - until there was a hand wrapped around his throat and- _

With trembling hands, Baekhyun gathered all the courage he managed to find in his heart and crossed the distance separating him from Jongdae’s room. 

Blood roaring in his ears and rushing under his skin, he leaned to peek inside through the crack in the door. 

A gasp - abrupt and shocked - ripped out of his throat and his ears filled with static noise. He froze. The knife slipped out of his hand and fell on the ground. Loudly.

Jongdae opened his eyes and looked up, the lower part of his face hidden behind the lean wrist decorated with two red spots where the skin was ripped open. The wrist wasn’t his.

“Baekhyun.” Jongdae’s mouth opened slightly. Baekhyun would see red if the world hadn’t turned into blacks and whites seconds ago.

The lean wrist slipped out of Jongdae’s grasp and the unconscious weight that was resting on his thighs was thrown to the side with a loud thud. 

Not just an unconscious  _ weight _ , but a body, a person, a nameless man, a stranger - realized Baekhyun mortified. His eyes fixed on Jongdae’s lips: color deeper than any shade of red lipstick would ever ensure. Not luscious cherry, not flower’s pink petals, but crimson and wet. Dripping wet.

“Baekhyun.” Jongdae repeated, standing up on shaky legs. His face was mirroring Baekhyun’s terror.

“I-”

“Let me-”

“No.” Baekhyun said quickly, voice trembling and breathy. “No, just. Don’t. I… Not. at least right now, I-” his head was spinning, thought running circles and a very ugly, nagging thought that he could be next unconscious weight poisoning his mind. “Please.”

Jongdae’s eyes were in a completely different shade now - not dark like a bottomless well, but sparkly with splotches of red. 

“But later?” he asked weakly, and his hesitance was so unfit for the situation that it almost made Baekhyun laugh hysterically. 

“Yes,” he breathed out, “Later.” It was probably the most stupid thing he had ever said.

But it did the trick. Jongdae sighed with relief and took a step back in defeat. Out of habit and nervousness, he licked his bottom lip. A few drops of blood gathered in the corner of his mouth and slipped down his chin. 

Baekhyun was going to be  _ sick _ .

“I will better get going.” 

Jongdae looked between the body sprawled on his couch and Baekhyun standing in the door. “Wait,” he said and there was so much desperation in his voice that it almost felt like a cry for help. “Wait,” he repeated.

For a terrible split of a second Baekhyun feared that he would- that Jongdae was going to-

“He’s alive, I mean. Just unconscious.” Jongdae leaned down to grab his victim’s hand, the blood was dripping down his fingers. “He’s…. I wouldn’t. I didn’t-” he groaned, “He, um, consented.” 

“Ah,” Baekhyun swallowed the lump in his throat. “Cool.” he breathed out and then? 

Then he ran away.

_ Jongdae was never an angel, or a good fairy or a ghost. _

_ But he wasn’t human either. _


	2. a meteor shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> baekchen said:  
> we're mostly talking in half-sentences but at least we communicate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello.  
> So apparently according to me "within a week" actually means "two weeks" so there's that. But! The bright side is that somehow this fic grew from the original "it's going to be 8k wordish" to "look at this 14k words big phat baby"! Which is neat, I think.
> 
> Not gonna lie, finishing this story was hard because of how invested I was. This fic was all I could think about for the past few weeks and the ending is something I worked really hard on so I hope you'll like it ^^
> 
> And before you point out "but Vic! the halloween season is over!", let me just say that: there is no bad time for vampire Jongdae and his chaotic punk Baekhyun.
> 
> Content warning:  
> Baekhyun says one (1) really bad pun.

_ Jongdae wasn’t human. _

_ But then, the world wasn’t black and white either, was it? _

_ \---- _

Baekhyun expected his dreams to be filled with streams and waterfalls of hot blood pouring from the sky. He expected fear, terror, and never-ending nightmares that would haunt him for days, for weeks even.

No such thing had happened.

For the first time in months - he dreamed of light and colors. Not blinding ones, but those that made him smile in his sleep. Soft smiles, smiles trembling in the corners, smiles breaking into frowns as soon as the reality sank back into the depths into his mind.

Sometimes Jongdae was a part of his dreams too - always standing aside, quietly, never touching Baekhyun, not even with a tip of his finger, not uttering a word. Constantly escaping Baekhyun’s gaze, rarely returning his smile. 

Every day Baekhyun woke up _ longing _ .

\----

He was trying to figure out how to abolish a government when someone knocked at his door. The knocking itself was loud but the sound shook at the edges as if someone wasn’t sure if they made the right choice. Baekhyun frowned. His landlady - miss Park (age unknown but considerably “ancient”) - had no reason to visit him at this time of the night. Driven by curiosity and unspoken foolish  _ hope _ , Baekhyun pushed himself off his chair. 

The first thing he saw, when he opened the door, was a box of Lucky Strike in an outstretched hand. White box with a big round circle in the color of a broken heart. 

“Hi,” Jongdae said, all hesitant smiles and dark eyes shyly. He was standing so far, treating the tiny box of cigarettes like a shield, that could protect him from the impact of the meeting.

“Hi,” Baekhyun replied dumbly, feeling more at peace than it was appropriate seeing as a creature straight from folktales was standing in front of his door. “That’s my favorite brand,” he added, pointing at the Strikes.

Jongdae snorted and cast his eyes down. He looked… sheepish. “I know, I sniffed every single brand at the store. ‘M pretty sure the owner thought I was stoned my head off.”

Against better judgment, only because it was Jongdae - still Jongdae - Baekhyun chuckled. 

“I bet that your general vibe was one of the main leads,” he crackled. His eyes dropped to the doorsill between them. Jongdae’s hand didn’t cross its line. Baekhyun shuddered.

Jongdae caught him staring and grinned. An easy type of grin. Reassuring even. The type of grin that went well with his asymmetric tunic and colorful necklaces wrapped around his neck. Baekhyun’s heart lurched,  _ it all looked so familiar _ . He mirrored the smile and his soul purred. It  _ felt _ familiar. 

“You might be onto something.” Jongdae bit the corner of his lower lip - Baekhyun’s memory flashed with red but he pushed that image at the back of his head. “What are you up to today?” Jongdae asked awkwardly, hand still gripping the Lucky Strikes.

“Planning how to overthrow the government,” Baekhyun shrugged and cleared his throat. “Wanna come in?” he asked, a question heavy on his tongue and hopeful in his heart. His eyes dropped to the doorsill again and, as soon as he realized what he was doing, snapped up to properly look at Jongdae.

A bundle of emotions exploded behind his eyes and the Lucky Strike in his hand trembled. His fingers squeezing the box tighter.

“I- sure,” Jongdae tried taking a tiny step forward but hesitated. As if he was still giving Baekhyun time to change his mind.

“Come on, before grans Park notices you lingering in front of the door.” Baekhyun mindlessly reached out and his hand wrapped around Jongdae’s lean wrist, tugging him forward. 

There was no heartbeat beneath his fingers, but - now that he thought about it - there never was one ever since the beginning.

It had been like that since the beginning, he just never  _ noticed _ .

\---

“So we’re overthrowing the government today?”

“They’re the root of all my problems.”

“They’re the root of _ everyone’s _ problem.”

“Yours too?”

“Listen, I’ve been there camping outside that fucking white castle in the sixties  _ for months _ . You could say that my anarchist dreams have started just about then.” Jongdae’s voice flattered and he paused, looking at Baekhyun expectantly. _ Waiting  _ for  _ him _ to  _ react _ . Waiting for  _ questions _ . 

Baekhyun’s cheeks burned at how little faith Jongdae had for him. “It’s always better to be in a team with someone experienced?” he tried weakly. 

Jongdae’s eyes glinted.

“Gimme some paper, we might as well start planning a revolution.”

_ Hours later, Baekhyun prompted his chin on his palm, watching Jongdae effortlessly ramble about protests against the Vietnam war, and realized how easy it was to accept extraordinary when it came to Jongdae who had been out of this world since the very beginning.  _

\---

“How did you know where I live? I don’t recall ever dragging you here,” asked Baekhyun suddenly.

“I just knew.” Jongdae shrugged.

“Yeah but how?”

Jongdae turned his attention to the cup ring marks on the table.

“I remembered it. That night. In November. You were standing on the balcony.” he admitted unwillingly, “I remembered where it happened. The tenement, the floor, the window.”

Baekhyun desperately tried to not burst into cheery laughter. He felt lightheaded. “Well… that’s not creepy at all.” a tease louder than an accusation. 

“It’s not like that!”

“Whatever you say, Jongdae...” 

That night when he turned off the lights and the door clicked closed behind Jongdae, Baekhyun realized that he wasn’t lightheaded. He was lighthearted. 

\---

As time progressed Baekhyun grew even more hungry for answers and became even bolder with his questions.

“Why did you let me go? Back then when I…” he trailed off.  _ Back then when I saw you with teeth sank in somebody’s wrist.  _

A few seconds passed before Jongdae caught up on what Baekhyun was implying. He cocked his head and the golden-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose slid down a little bit. Baekhyun thought that he looked insanely hot like that.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Jongdae asked simply.  _ Maybe that’s how it was. Simple. Maybe it was just Baekhyun who made it so complicated. _

“Because I… I don’t know, I could tell someone and-”

“I know that you wouldn’t do that.” 

The untouched box of Lucky Strike was still lying between them on the table, even though it has been weeks since Baekhyun put it there. He had never told Jongdae that he was trying to quit smoking completely.

“How dod you know?” Baekhyun asked after a moment. He shifted on the floor and his elbow brushed against Jongdae’s arm. “Do you have some superpowers or what?” his lips tilted upwards. 

Jongdae rested his cheek on his knees. The line of his lips broke into something unnaturally wicked. Not a smile but a smirk that made Baekhyun’s blood rush beneath his skin.

“No, I don’t have superpowers. I’m a vampire god damn it, not a superman.”

It was the first time either of them used this word. Baekhyun was glad that it was finally out. 

“Dunno, I don’t know much about… your kind.” he excused himself awkwardly.

The smile on Jongdae’s face softened. All of a sudden vulnerability was painting in his eyes, clear and bright. Obvious and honest.

“Well, you should know that I don’t need superpowers to know that I can trust you, Baekhyun.” 

\---

_ Maybe Jongdae was a vampire but he was also Jongdae. _

_ Who said he couldn’t be both? _

\---

They grew closer. Jongdae was more open. He started talking about himself, about his experience as a person, whilst in the past everything he said was… general and soulless. Weeks later, the look behind his eyes was significantly softer, less wary. It was a nice change. The kind that made Baekhyun’s heart splutter. 

“Man, he really is… one of a kind.” Chanyeol mused leaning over the bar’s countertop. 

Jongdae had left a few minutes ago, excusing himself with “personal reasons” and promising that he would “make it up to Baekhyun”. ( _ To Baekhyun! _ ) His eyes were  _ clearly _ directed at Baekhyun. And that chaste promise was so sweet and sincere and it was the first time when Jongdae looked at Baekhyun like  _ that _ . Almost as if he was missing him before he even properly left. Baekhyun nearly combusted on the spot. 

He crossed his arms on his chest.

“What do you mean?” he asked much sharper than initially intended and Chanyeol raised his hands in defeat.

“I’m just saying, you don’t see a type like him often nowadays,” Chanyeol nodded at the exit door. 

Baekhyun’s fingers drummed against the countertop. His nails were in the color black - dark but not as dark as Jongdae’s eyes.

“Not just nowadays,” he replied finally, “There has never been a man like him, ever before.” 

Chanyeol looked at him pitifully.

_ Because maybe it didn’t matter what Jongade was, maybe him being special was more than enough. _

\---

Baekhyun dropped the “T”-bomb question when Jongdae was passing him the fattest blunt he had ever seen.

“How were you turned?” he asked, pretending to sound casual. His hands were shaking like crazy. “You know. Into a vampire.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Jongdae jerked his hand away before their fingers brushed. Baekhyun caught the blunt awkwardly. Its tip was burning just like the tips of Baekhyun’s ears. 

“Woodstock 1969. A friend whom I met three days prior asked me if I would choose to live forever if I had a choice,” Jongdae explained, carefully rolling a thin joint. He couldn’t get high on human drugs. It was just a habit he refused to neglect.

“And what did you say?” Baekhyun leaned a little bit closer.

Jongdae’s brows furrowed, tying a loose knot in the middle of his forehead. 

“I said… that I was afraid of dying and I would take that offer. The next night he offered to turn me and I complied.” Jongdae laughed shortly, “It’s not a dramatic story, honestly. It was as boring as it sounds.”

Baekhyun puffed, the clouds of smoke skipping past his teeth. 

“You didn’t regret it?”

This time, the reply came earlier.

“Never.” Jongdae picked a pen and drew a tiny fox’s head at the tip of his joint. He inspected it carefully from each side and put it down. 

“Was it easy to make a choice back then?” inquired Baekhyun.

“What is that? Some kind of interview?” Jongdae snorted and Baekhyun blushed. He did that a lot around Jongdae.

“Just curious,” he mumbled meekly.

Jongdae tapped his bottom lip. Today, his lips were almost as pale as his fingers. On other days they were baby pink. Once or twice they were almost rosy.

“The time was rough, politics was a mess, racism was spiking, days were long and boring,” he replied, ditching the attempts to hide the bitterness in his voice. “It’s not deep, Baekhyun,” he said seriously. “I was simply afraid of dying before I even started  _ living. _ ”

“Would you agree now too?”

“Yes,”  _ quick, confident, stern, without a hint of doubt _ .

“Have you ever dreamed of being… human again? Reversing the whole process?”

Jongdae shook his head firmly. “Never really crossed my mind. I used to be afraid of dying but…” he looked pensive for a moment. “I think I’m also afraid of living to some extent, you know? Living as I could  _ die _ .”

Baekhyun hooked his ankle over the couch’s armrest and puffed the smoke. It curled around his nose, before tickling upwards. He tried to put himself in Jongdae’s situation. Jongdae who, as Baekhyun learned, had lost his father to the Korean War when he was a kid. Jongdae who was raised dreading the world. Jongdae who watched his mother slowly fall into utter and endless misery. Jongdae who had seen his friends being sent off to serve the army in Vietnam. 

Jongdae who just wanted to live without fear that he was the next in line to be unhappy.

Baekhyun took another long drag. 

“You think wrongly of me now, don’t you?” asked Jongdae suddenly, head hanging low, almost with shame. “Many vampires hate their nature. Hate that they can’t live to the fullest and can’t be dead to the point of dying. But for me... I’ve never wanted to do either of these anyway.”

Baekhyun shook his head.

“I’m not one to judge your choices, J’dae.” his shoulders twitched, “Of all people, I know that being judged by how you wanna live, kinda sucks.” a crooked smile settled on his lips. His tongue still felt numb after he pierced it two weeks ago. Perhaps, it was numb from how true what he said was.

Jongdae looked at him wordlessly but with interest that made Baekhyun squirm. After a moment, however, Jongdae snatched the blunt out of his hand and took a deep drag without saying a thing.

_ The truth was that Jongdae couldn’t get high on human drugs anymore but he could get high on humans. _

Baekhyun hadn’t even realized when Jongdae started moving when suddenly there was a hand clasped the back of his neck. Almond-shaped nails digging into the soft skin, making Baekhyun hiss in pain. The hold didn’t lessen, the strength behind it didn’t waver. 

If Baekhyun wasn’t sitting, he would probably fall under the intensity of the touch. It was burning his skin even if he could barely tell the difference between the chill of Jongdae’s silver rings and his icy fingers.

“What are you doing?” he asked breathlessly, completely at Jongdae’s mercy in every way possible. Blood roared in Baekhyun’s veins.  _ Jongdae had never- not even suggested- but perhaps- _ “Do you-” words got stuck in his throat and before he realized what he was doing he tilted his head to the side, exposing the soft of his neck.

Jongdae scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t be silly and just let me…” he licked his lips, face on the level of Baekhyun’s. For a short moment, Jongdae searched for something in his eyes. As if Baekhyun was a book and Jongdae was its designated reader. “Just follow my lead.” he crooned.

His thumb softly touched Baekhyun’s bottom lip and his lips parted, jaw going slack and mouth falling open. 

Jongdae puffed on the joint, put it away, and pushed Baekhyun forward until their foreheads were touching and their noses were brushing against each other. Jongdae’s fingers loosely gripped Baekhyun’s chin, shifting his head to the side. 

Out of habit, Baekhyun closed his eyes.

His lips tingled at the cold puff of smoke, as delicate as a gust of summer breeze. He shivered, the smoke curling on his tongue and bouncing off the back of his teeth. It tasted very much like a weed and a little bit like something Baekhyun had never tasted before.  _ Jongdae.  _ It was just a faint aftertaste but it was enough to ignite a conflagration in his heart. He had barely  _ tried _ and he already wanted more. 

But Jongdae was leaning back before Baekhyun snapped out of his daze. He opened his eyes just in time to see the corners of Jongdae’s lips curl and his fangs hook over his lower lip. 

_ Jongdae claimed to always be civil but Baekhyun was positive that what he was doing with him was absolutely illegal. _

\---

“- and that’s why Sehun is so pissy sometimes. You’d think that he would eventually forget but apparently, it’s been almost fifty years and he’s still fixated over this.” Jongdae snickered, patting Baekhyun’s knee furiously. “So with all the evidence gathered, I- dude. Dude, are you even listening?” 

A sharp elbow nagged Baekhyun’s ribs. He was pretty sure it would leave a bruise. Not the type of bruise he wanted.

“What? Gods, sorry I spaced out,” he apologized quickly, finger fumbling with the silver hoop earring hanging from his ear.

Jongdae looked at him unimpressed. “Care to share with the class? You kind of spoiled my punchline.”

“Oh, I…” Baekhyun bit at the inner part of his cheek.  _ If he drew blood, would he get a reaction out of Jongdae-?  _ “I’m sorry, I-”

Jongdae giggled. He actually  _ giggled _ . Baekhyun blushed furiously. Jongdae looked so unthreatening like that: giggling, his skin flushed slightly and his lips of the pink color.

“Nah, chill out. I don’t mind that much,” he waved Baekhyun off and smiled.  _ God, his smile was so pretty. _ “So?” he raised an eyebrow, “Anything you want to talk about? I was told that I give wise advice.” 

_ And what could Baekhyun possibly tell him? That he was musing over how beautiful Jongdae was like that: hair disheveled and curls sprawled on Baekhyun’s pillows?  _

That was absolutely out of the question.

“Yeah, giving good advice like the middle-age prick that you are!” Baekhyun grinned, reaching out to grab his beer. “Shall I call you  _ dad _ too?” he added sweetly, batting his eyelashes.

“I don’t want to indulge in your weird-ass kinks, thank you very much!” Jongdae grinned, showing the row of his pearly white teeth. “Besides, I told you already that it’s not how aging works for me. Mentally, I’m forever 25, remember?” 

“Whatever, man,” Baekhyun mumbled grumpily.

Jongdae laughed. It had been months since Baekhyun had heard his laugh for the first time and it was still the same enchanting, even after all this time. He cringed at his own cheesiness. Jongdae pulled the beer that Baekhyun was holding and took a gulp. He grimaced.

“You people really do drink that?” he asked with a frown. “Idiotic.” 

Now, it was Baekhyun’s time to laugh. 

“You’re just grumpy because you can’t get drunk!” he teased but didn’t try to take the can out of Jongdae’s hands.

“Technically, I can get drunk.” Jongdae hummed easily.

_ Now that was new. _ Baekhyun leaned closer, urging him to keep talking. His shin was pressed hard against Jongdae’s.

“You could say that I can, erhm, I can get drunk off the blood of a drunk person..” Jongdae smiled tightly. “If I drink normal liquor as people do, the most it can do is kill off my...” he made a tiny sound as if he wasn’t sure how he got himself dragged into this conversation. “... my hunger, essentially. Which happens to be quite convenient from time to time. But if I, umm, feed on someone who’s intoxicated, I can easily go drunk. I’m very lightheaded.” he finished with a stiff chuckle and pressed the can back into Baekhyun’s open hands.

For a while they stayed just like that - Jongdae looking everywhere but Baekhyun and Baekhyun looking at Jongdae in stunned silence, with heart hammering against his ribcage. Jongdae had told him about many aspects of his life but - he had made it clear since the beginning - feeding was off the limits. And for him to open about that made Baekhyun feel a whole lot of things. Starting from shock, through creeping worry for his life, till the spark of excitement.

“I see,” he said finally.

Jongdae snorted. “Eloquent as ever.” 

“So if I was-”

“We’re not discussing a  _ ‘you’ _ in this kind of situation.” Jongdae cut off swiftly and stretched out his body with a long hum.

And, despite his tendency to keep pressing until he got what he wanted, one look at Jongdae’s face was enough for Baekhyun to drop the subject.

\---

That night Baekhyun dreamed of soft lips pressed to his neck and frigid fingers holding his back.

He woke up with a sweet aftertaste of a moan on his lips.

\---

It was a stormy day, which made the distinct border between day and night blur almost completely in the thick rain. Jongdae walked into Baekhyun’s flat like a ray of sun peeking through clouds.

“Are you nocturnal?” 

Jongdae’s hand stilled above the hanger, his thin scarf was dripping wet. (Baekhyun once teased him if he gave the scarf to his victims after feeding. Jongdae smacked him hard.)

“Let me put down my stuff at least, you crude?” he grumbled, but the bright sparks in his eyes were all too telling. He stopped being uncomfortable with Baekhyun’s prodding questions a long time ago.

“You can literally undress and talk to me.” Baekhyun huffed, trotting to the kitchen to fetch him a towel. 

“Undress, huh?” Jongdae smirked at Baekhyun who flipped him the bird.

The questions about Jongdae’s… abnormal life-style sprouted in his head from time to time. On a daily basis, he didn’t think much about the whole “he’s immortal and feeds on blood” thing. But sometimes it was hard to tap his curiosity down. Sometimes he just wanted to know more, to understand better. To know what he would have to take into consideration if he ever-

He threw the towel at Jongdae who looked like a wet puppy. Baekhyun cooed internally. But then Jongdae opened his eyes and they were dark but with tiny splotches of red, ( _ and his lips were red, oh so red, _ ) and Baekhyun had to look away, swallowing the bitter jealousy.

See, it wasn’t like Baekhyun was obsessed with the idea of Jongdae breaking his skin open. He thought about that a healthy amount of time - probably as much as any normal person would think about it if they were friends with a vampire. So what if sometimes he traced the lines on his throat and wrists wondering how it would feel to let someone’s teeth sink into his flesh. To let the taste of this person - Jongdae! - mix with blood beneath his skin. It sounded so… intimate. And just a little bit exciting.

Anyway, Baekhyun didn’t dwell on that much. At least not when he was around Jongdae. He still didn’t man up enough to ask if vampires could pick up on the pace of someone’s heartbeat.

Shaking his head, Baekhyun flicked open his Lucky Strike. The box was mostly untouched. Usually, he just opened it to soothe his nerves. To remind himself that everything was  _ real _ . That Jongdae was  _ real _ . 

Baekhyun glanced at Jongdae. The other raised his eyebrow expectantly. The sound of raindrops outside made it seem as if there were only two of them left in the whole world. 

Eventually, Jongdae shrugged. “If you want to smoke, go ahead.”

“But you hate the smell, don’t you?” Baekhyun crossed his arms on his chest.

Jongdae held his gaze. “I will manage if you need to smoke badly or something.”

Baekhyun put the Strikes away.

“I don’t really, no.” 

His fingers twitched (if he knew it would be so hard to quit, he would never start smoking). Jongdae smiled. The tips of his fangs were prodding at his bottom lip. Baekhyun’s heart was melting like a fucking cherry-red popsicle. His fingers stopped twitching.

“I’m nocturnal by choice by the way,” said Jongdae.

“What?”

Jongdae rolled his eyes.

“You asked earlier, didn’t you?” he asked, drying his hair. “I assume that you meant to ask if my kind walks in the sun. The answer is: yes we do.”

“But you don’t?” Baekhyun cocked his head. “Why?”

Jongdae started vigorously rubbing the back of his neck with a towel and, then, proceeded to do the same with his chest and arms. Baekhyun drank in the sight like he was dying of thirst. 

“Seems more fitting. The night, I mean. To me…” he trailed off, fingers absently tracing his bottom lip. He had a tendency to do that often when his skin was slightly flushed and his lips were pinker than usual. Baekhyun tried really hard to ignore the gesture and what it was doing with his vivid imagination. 

“As you know, I have a rather special relationship with being, you know, dead.” Jongdae started over. “It sounds shitt é but, there’s something romantic in existing the way legends paint me to exist. Darkness is… it just works best for me.”

Baekhyun nodded with understanding. 

“Besides,” Jongdae’s eyes mischievously flicked up to meet Baekhyun’s, “I’ve been told that I look better under the moonlight.”

Baekhyun spent a week trying to convince himself that Jongdae didn’t mean to be that flirtatious on purpose. 

\---

The moon hung low and was most likely very beautiful, but Baekhyun was too hung on Jongdae to notice that. 

It was a warm night, the first of many more to come in the future, and the weather was absolutely delightful. Jongdae didn’t have to pursue Baekhyun long to drag him outside. 

“I’ve always preferred fresh air over confined space.” 

Baekhyun sniggered. Jongdae looked at him with his half-lidded, heavy eyes.

“What’s so funny, punk?” 

“Maybe you’d prefer a  _ coffined _ space over confined one.” Baekhyun bit his lip. “You know,  _ coffined _ comes from _ coffins _ .”

Jongdae sneered and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

“Why do I keep up with you is beyond my imagination.” he exhaled heavily, lips twisted into a lopsided smile.

Baekhyun grinned.

“You like me. That’s why,” he replied lightly, bobbing his head to the music falling at them from one of the opened windows. 

For a while, they walked like that - in complete silence, save from Tina Turner’s voice echoing down the street. A little bit eerie but in a comfortable way. The street was empty, only one calico cat watching them from where he was sitting on a stone wall. His yellow, glowing eyes reminded Baekhyun of his stupid addiction to Lucky Strike. The new advertisement poster was yellow. He really should quit smoking completely.  _ (He still smoked occasionally. Like when he was waking up in the middle of the night, gasping, the memory of Jongdae’s touch still lingering on his skin. Or like when he was watching Jongdae rush down the street, minutes before the dusk set in. Or like when he caught Jongdae looking at him when he thought Baekhyun wasn’t looking.) _

“It’s true, you know,” Jongdae said out of nowhere and when Baekhyun googled at him.

“What is true?” Baekhyun tugged the sleeves of his checked shirt.

Jongdae licked his lips. “Me liking you.” 

The ground seemed to shake beneath Baekhyun’s feet.  _ Hell. _ Not even that. It felt like the whole planet just flung itself to the next galaxy. Hyperdrive speed that almost made him lose his balance. 

Baekhyun awkwardly cleared his throat. 

“Well, as you should?” voice painfully frail. 

“No, I mean…” Jongdae sighed heavily. Sometimes he sighed like that as if he was disappointed in Baekhyun and his (poor) ability to absorb the unsaid. (The truth was that Baekhyun feared reading into too much). 

He stopped walking in the middle of the street. Stopped just like this, just like Baekhyun’s heart stopped when Jongdae affectionately brushed the bangs away from Baekhyun’s face. 

Stopped there and they were standing still. Out of calico’s cat prying eyes. In the full glow of brilliant moonlight.

Jongdae’e eyes raised up to the sky. Baekhyun waited patiently. Sometimes Jongdae was at a loss of words around him but it was no bother.  _ Maybe it’s a vampire thing _ \- he had always thought. 

“I like you, Baekhyun.”

_ Jesus Fucking Christ. _

“I mean. We’re friends so I would certainly hope for that?” Did Baekhyun sound convincing? Baekhyun certainly did not sound convincing. 

Jongdae dragged his hand across his face. “You are so  _ daft _ sometimes, god.” 

Baekhyun made a small disagreeing sound, unable to stammer anything else because it sounded- Jongdae made it seem- and perhaps Baekhyun really was dumb because he couldn’t help but hope- And this desperate, childish wish was enough to take Baekhyun’s breath away. So he stayed silent.

Jongdae searched for something in his eyes.

“I can hear your heartbeat spiking when you’re around me.”

_ Dear Gods in heaven. _

“It’s not what-” Baekhyun opposed softly. 

Jongdae raised his eyebrow, successfully killing Baekhyun’s hope to explain himself.

“You like me, romantically,” Jongdae said.

Baekhyun sucked in a breath. The truth was leaking out of him in hectoliters apparently. 

“I do.” because he did. He liked Jongdae a lot. Enough to, against better judgment, repeatedly spend time with him no matter if his lips were pale of rosy-red.

Jongdae smiled victoriously and for a second Baekhyun expected a nasty jab, topped with a sympathetic pat on his shoulder. For a second he feared that he would blink and Jongdae would dissolve into thin air like he used to before. 

“Like, I said, I like you too.” 

It seemed that the earth really broke out of its orbit and was floating somewhere where gravity didn’t exist, because the only thing holding Baekhyun was Jongdae’s smile.

“You mean…?”

“I mean that I’m half-way in love with you.”

_ Hallelujah. _

Baekhyun gasped. His stomach churned. He was vaguely aware that he was about to start hyperventilating. 

“I need to sit down.” he rasped. Jongdae laughed cheerfully and sneaked his hand under Baekhyun’s arm. 

“Let me take you somewhere safe,” he whispered, his lips curled up and eyes bright because -  _ surely _ \- he must have heard how Baekhyun’s blood sang when Jongdae was pressed close to him.

An hour later, Baekhyun was clutching his coffee, stubbornly refusing to look at Jongdae. He was sure that if he looked at him, his face would be as red as the Lucky Strike’s logo. 

“Better?” Jongdae asked softly, sitting cross-legged in front of Baekhyun.

“Pretty sure something stronger would help more but it will do.” Baekhyun mused, words daddling on his tongue.

Jongdae laughed. If Baekhyun didn’t know better he would say that it sounded a tad panicked.

“It’s better if we talk about this when you’re sober.” Jongdae bit down his smile. 

That was a very fair point. Baekhyun put down his coffee and looked at the time.  _ Two in the morning. _ A ‘now or never’ hour.

“So what are we?” he asked bluntly.

Jongdae’s head dropped and his shoulder shook in soundless laughter. 

“Ever so straight-forward, aren’t you?” he threw his head back and ran a hand through his hair.

“This is where we would be heading with this conversation anyway.” Baekhyun anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. “So let’s get to the point and call it a day. I mean. A night.”

The smile disappeared from Jongdae’s face and something in Baekhyun sank.  _ It is your heart, idiot  _ \- suggested a tiny voice at the back of his head. Jongdae looked away.

“It’s not that simple,” he muttered under his breath.

“Why not? Is it because I’m human?” Baekhyun’s jaw jutted stubbornly forward.

Jongdae grunted. “Of course, it’s because you’re human.” he paused, “It’s just… You don’t understand, it’s very difficult…” 

“Then make me understand.” 

“I don’t know  _ how _ .” the pitch of his voice grew higher, as if he was panicked, horrified, and worried all at the same time. 

Baekhyun rised to his feet. Anger and unspeakable disappointment were thrumming through his veins. He tried to blink his tears away, but the dark eyeshadow was already smearing in the corners of his eyes.  _ He hadn’t expected it to hurt so much. _

“So it’s a rejection then?” he asked proudly.

“God,  _ no _ !” Jongdae shrilled. “Are you crazy?”

Baekhyun fell back on the couch and shrugged. 

“You made it sound like one,” he commented flatly.

“I just. I guess that…” Jongdae curled himself up on the floor, “I think I need time. Which - before you say anything - I know is quite ironic but… yeah. It would mean a world to me- I would be honored if... Can we stay friends for now?”

Baekhyun’s hands clasped around the cold mug of coffee. He wished his voice was just as cold, but it was close to impossible when Jongdae looked like that. Small and scared. Out of habit, Baekhyun reached for his Lucky Strike. Jongdae handed him the lighter. 

“Alright then.” Baekhyun leaned forward, letting Jongdae light up the tip. He quickly moved away. After all, Jongdae hated the smoke. “Friends for now, then.” he took a long drag, relishing the burn of nicotine on his tongue (it was much better than the burn of his blood-shot eyes). “But,  _ please _ ,” he added after a moment. “Remember that you might have all the time in the world. But I don’t.”

Jongdae gulped audibly and ducked his head down.

_ That was precisely one of the problems. _

\---

“I want you to feed on me.”

Jongdae threw himself into an aggressive coughing fit, the thick smoke hanging in the air making it even harder to breathe. Baekhyun waited patiently. He felt minuscule satisfaction watching Jongdae’s chest heave as he struggled to draw oxygen into his lungs. 

_ “I’m a bad person, going straight to hell,” _ he admonished himself internally and patted Jongdae’s back. Jongdae gave him a dirty look. 

“Jesus Christ!” he wheezed, almost choking on his saliva. “Warn a man, why won’t you?”

Baekhyun grinned. Despite his worst apprehensions, nothing changed between them since the confession that happened weeks ago. They weren’t even remotely awkward around each other.

“Don’t know what kind of warning would prepare you for my question,” he was smiling so widely that his tongue was peeking through his teeth. “How would I phrase it? Ah, yes. _ Hey, Jongdae, be a dear and don’t get a heart attack but I wanted to ask if you could sink your pearly white teeth in my velvet-soft- _ ”

“Oh my god, stop that!” Jongdae gasped but he was smiling. Of course, he was smiling. “It’s not something you can joke about!”

“I just did,” Baekhyun fiddled with his spike bracelet, smirking slyly. The tips of the spikes were blunt, no harm could ever be done with them. Sometimes he pressed them hard to his skin. Hard enough to leave angry red marks.  _ Just for science _ . 

Jongdae deflected visibly, “Oh, so you didn’t mean-”

“No, no. I certainly want you to bite me, drink my blood, and all that shit.” he waved his hand dismissively. 

Jongdae let out the breath he was holding. The exhaled air hissed, rising goosebumps on Baekhyun’s skin.

“So…” Baekhyun trailed off, thumb pressed hard against the blunt tip of his bracelet’s spike. Sometimes Jongdae’s silence was so… unnerving. “Aren’t you going to talk me out of it?” he asked curiously because that was what he was expecting.

“Not really, no,” Jongdae shook his head, looking pensive, “You’ve been friends with a vampire for months, you know what you’re signing up for. I mean, don’t get me wrong - sometimes you are deliberately thick but you’re not a  _ complete _ idiot.”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes and slapped Jongdae’s arm. He bit his tongue before saying ‘but you seem to be in love with that idiot’. 

“So we’re doing that?” he asked instead, heat already licking his neck and tips of his ears. 

Jongdae laughed. “Right now?” he smiled with amusement.

Breathing harshly, Baekhyun untied the choker hanging low on his neck. He could feel his pulse drumming through his veins with the tips of his fingers. He wondered if, in a way, it was driving Jongdae mad. 

Baekhyun raised his gaze and it felt like the air was knocked out of his lungs, Jongdae’s face only inches away, eyes boring into his soul. Baekhyun managed to hold his gaze for the whole three seconds. 

“You’re a devil,” he mumbled under his breath and Jongdae laughed again. 

His fingers tentatively reached out to brush against Baekhyun’s neck, making him shiver. Baekhyun squeezed his eyes tight, shamefully realizing that he was trembling like a bird under Jongdae’s delicate touch. He could feel the puff of cold breath tickling his bare skin.  _ His blood smelled like adrenaline and anticipation.  _

Jongdae huffed and quickly tied the choker back on Baekhyun’s neck. The black leather was clinging tightly to the skin, making veins more prominent. Jongdae nodded with satisfaction and leaned back, nudging Baekhyun to open his eyes.

“Not today,” he announced softly, “We’re not. You… but mostly me. I don’t-” he blushed slightly and it was the first time Baekhyun had seen him blush: pink color peppering his cheeks, reminding Baekhyun of pastel sparkles on a birthday cake. “I’m not ready tonight.”

Baekhyun’s nails scratched the thin strip around the base of his neck. Jongdae’s eyes followed the gesture. He didn’t even try to hide it.

“Okay.” Baekhyun gently tapped at the skin. He smirked at Jongdae, batting his eyelashes. “Next week then maybe?”

Jongdae pulled out his flask and emptied it in a blink of an eye.

“Next week seems perfect.”

\---

Chanyeol hid his face in his hands.

“I will take that as a no,” Baekhyun frowned, shrugging the purple shirt off his shoulders. “And you’d better stop sulking. If I had known you wanted to come here  _ just _ to be insufferable...” 

“I hardly wanted to come,” Chanyeol grimaced, peaking at Baekhyun through his fingers. “You  _ dragged  _ me here,  _ demanding _ my help. You’re the insufferable one.” 

“Tomayto, tomahto.” said Baekhyun, dismissing Chanyeol with a wave of his hand. He didn’t even look at him, completely engrossed with an ash grey t-shirt hanging in his closet. “Do you think he’d appreciate lighter colors?”

“For your date?” Chanyeol winked at Baekhyun in the mirror.

Baekhyun’s face turned scarlet. 

“It’s not a date,” he muttered, voice barely audible through the music playing from the radio. “Far from it actually.” 

He pulled out a black shirt with red stripes and a black one with a low neck-line “This or that?”

“Low neck-line is sexy. The stripes are more casual. So it really depends on what vibe you want to give off.” Chanyeol opinionated seriously. 

The speaker on the radio announced the next song and the first tunes of Depeche Mode’s  _ Strangelove _ started playing as Baekhyun stared at his reflection.

“I want to look  _ scrumptious _ .” he mused, biting his bottom lip.

“Then you have your answer.” Chanyeol grinned. 

“The black one it is!” Baekhyun lightened up and hung the shirt over his mirror. 

_ The black one gave excellent access to his neck anyway.  _

\---

It was exactly 10 pm, when someone rang at the bell, making Baekhyun jump off his couch and - in a flash - move to the front door. The only thing racing faster than he was, was his traitorous heart.

Baekhyun counted to ten before he opened the door with an easy smile and a slightly sultry “fancy seeing you here” on his lips.

His smile dropped seconds later when gran’s Park finger dug into the middle of his chest, just above his pounding heart. 

“The staircase is dirty  _ again _ and I know  _ it’s your fault _ .” she declared firmly, pressing her finger harder. Like always, her sentences were composed of an odd mixture of english and korean “It stinks of those  _ disgusting  _ cigarettes of yours!  _ Again. _ ”

Baekhyun raised his hands defensively. He barely even _ smoked  _ nowadays. Not that this old wench would believe anything he said. 

“I swear to god, I didn’t-”

“ _ Don’t make excuses now _ ! I tolerate the way you look, I tolerate the screeches you call  _ music _ !” she shrieked angrily, “Your life is not my business! I have no interest in that”  _ oh, how Baekhyun wished it was true _ . “But when _ any of those _ gets out of your flat, it starts to be my business!”

A mop of blonde curls appeared behind her back and Baekhyun’s hand clenched around the doorknob.

“Um, excuse me?” Jongdae hand delicately poked Park’s shoulder. “I think you might be wrong miss.”

Baekhyun snorted sardonically, albeit with a pinch of confusion, but the ‘damn right’ died on his tongue as he took in Jongdae’s expression. He was  _ different _ today. The red flowers on his shirt looked less like poppies and more like blood-stained roses. His wrists were exposed - shirt and coat’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows - showing-off sharp lines of his bones. Even the pendants hanging down his chest appeared to radiate strange energy - like tokens of dark arts and even darker magic, shaped into innocent daisies and moonstones.

And, of course, then, there were Jongdae’s eyes. Eyes dark, a warning swirling in their depths whenever he blinked. 

He looked like a sharp knife poorly hidden beneath semi-transparent velvet. 

He looked like he crawled out of Baekhyun’s darkest and most shameful dreams. 

He was the weapon and the one who held it. And made no bother to hide it.

_ It was on that moment that it occurred to Baekhyun that he had been right since the very beginning: Jongdae was indeed an angel. An angel of death. And Baekhyun was willing to fulfill any of his desires. _

_ At first, the pain was almost unbearable and all the colors of the universe exploded in front of Baekhyun’s eyes. So he squeezed them tighter, hands hopelessly gripping Jongdae’s nape and pulling at his hair. Not exactly to push him away, but not to pull him closer either.  _

Jongdae’s head lifted a little bit, fangs hovering just above Baekhyun’s neck.

“Shush, shush…” Jongdae murmured soothingly, “I barely grazed, darling, it will get better, I promise.”

And Baekhyun thought that Jongdae must have one hell of experience because his words really put his mind a little bit at ease. 

_ Jongdae’s teeth sank into his skin again and the world roared at Baekhyun loudly. Sounds and noises he had never heard in his life.  _ This time, he pushed Jongdae a little bit closer. His own teeth were gnawing at his bottom lip.  _ Jongdae tilted his head to the side and his lips moved across Baekhyun’s skin in an almost-kiss. Needle-like fangs dug deeper into the skin. _

Baekhyun’s heart was hammering and for a split of a second, he felt nothing but shame as he realized that Jongdae’s hand was on his chest where he could feel and hear Baekhyun’s fear and excitement. 

_ The colors were slowly starting to melt into one. The darkness swallowing light specks one by one.  _

_ It didn’t hurt anymore. _

“Oh good god,” Baekhyun breathed out, his hands starting to tremble. 

This time he tried to press  _ himself _ closer. 

Jongdae chuckled against his skin, the sound drumming across Baekhyun’s body, pulling a soundless whine out of his throat. 

“You are so  _ adorable _ , you know?” 

_ Baekhyun could hear Jongdae clearly as if he was speaking straight into Baekhyun’s blood.  _

“I am?” Baekhyun breathed out with difficulty, hands slowly sliding down Jongdae’s back. 

_ He was floating in the middle of a black sea. Pleasure lazily spreading across his body. _

_ “Yeah,” Jongdae laughed, voice reaching horizons, “You’re fucking precious.” _

_ Baekhyun smiled weakly. And then allowed his consciousness to sink into the bottom of the ocean. _

\---

Baekhyun didn’t dream that night.

\----

When he opened his eyes in the early morning his heart almost stopped at the sight of Jongdae’s face completely relaxed into sleep right next to his own.

And because he was a little bit greedy, he made no attempt to stop himself from wiggling a little bit closer.

They didn’t talk about it later.

\---

Jongin snickered when on the next day Baekhyun was wearing a black turtleneck. 

“So, then? Is it official now?” his fingers hooked around the silver loops sewed into Baekhyun’s jacket.

Baekhyun firmly pushed him away.

“None of your business.” the words sounded bitter on his tongue.  _ “It wasn’t like that.” _

That evening, despite an invitation, Jongdae didn’t come over to laugh and smoke weed and poke fun at Baekhyun’s new messy haircut.

In the morning grandma Park stopped Baekhyun when he was walking down the stairs.

“That boy with golden hair stopped by,” she said and Baekhyun felt like he was hit in the head, “He asked me to tell you that he needs time.”

“Oh,” Baekhyun breathed out heavily, “I… Thank you, miss.” 

Park giggled and her cheeks reddened slightly.

“He... he reminds me of someone I used to know, that boy of yours.” her voice was more gentle than ever. “I once knew a woman who had a son, beautiful like an angel. She died of longing after her husband and the boy disappeared. I don’t know what happened to him.”

Baekhyun clasped his hands behind his back to conceal their shaking.

“Oh really?” he asked, but Park didn’t seem to hear him.

“He was beautiful like an angel and if I didn’t know better I’d say that the time stopped for him and he comes to this tenement almost every day.” she sounded wistful, “Don’t let him run away.”

Like  _ hell _ , Baekhyun was going to give Jongdae time.

\---

It was quite ironic that Baekhyun found Jongdae at midnight, under the bright moon, when Jongdae was smiling at the sky, the way he did when Baekhyun had seen him for the first time.

He was much brighter than the moon, the stars and all the comets slashing through the sky all together.

“Jongdae.” Baekhyun breathed out but Jongdae didn’t look at him at all.

“Jongdae.” he tried louder, anger coiling in his stomach. But Jongdae didn’t react.

“Jongdae, for f-”

“ _ Shush _ ,” Jongdae finally looked at him from the corner of his eye. “Don’t speak.” he pointed at the sky. “Listen to the shooting stars,” he added with awe and looked up again. 

_ And how was Baekhyun supposed to explain that Jongdae was the brightest star of them all? _

“Okay,” he whispered and flopped on the grass. It was wet and smelled like night.

He had never seen shooting stars before.  _ Meteor rain! that’s how it’s called  _ \- he reminded himself, watching the lights fly across the sky.  _ And they are so beautiful  _ \- he thought, tentatively reaching out as if he wanted to snatch them off the sky with his own hand.

Perhaps, if he gathered all the stars and put them in the jar, he could offer them to Jongdae to light up his nights. 

“Do you hear them?” Jongdae sat down next to Baekhyun. “They are singing...” he added, eyes still fixated at the stars. 

But Baekhyun could only hear the sound of his rattling heart. The silver afterglows were flashing through the sky in the rhythm of the blood pounding in his ears. 

He swallowed thickly, tearing his gaze away to look at the ground. The dew on the grass was reflecting the stars and the moon. Their glow didn’t look magnificent anymore. If anything it looked cheap. Baekhyun tugged at the grass strand angrily. 

“Did you change your mind? On me?” he asked, shrinking in his own body “Or, did you simply make up your mind?”

Jongdae hummed as if he was expecting that question. 

“I did make up my mind, I think,” replied Jongdae and he was speaking slowly, roughly, as if he feared saying the wrong thing.

Another star crossed the sky. Baekhyun wondered what would happen if he cut it open with a knife. Would the sky bleed? And would its blood trickle down his neck, the way it trickled when Jongdae bit him?

Jongdae chuckled out of nowhere.

“Did you know that feeding wasn’t supposed to be sensual?” Jongdae shook his head and put it in his hands.

“Really?” Baekhyun snorted, “Because, to me, it was the hottest fucking thing in the world.”

“Yeah… Yeah, it was.”

Jongdae’s fingers rested on Baekhyun’s nape. Through the fabric of his turtleneck, the touch was delicate and gentle. Soft and affectionate. His thumb brushed against the column of Baekhyun’s throat. 

Baekhyun still wore a plaster there. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t have done it,” Jongdae said. He sounded… pained.

“A bit too late to take it back.” Baekhyun clicked his tongue. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t take it back even if I could.” Jongdae laughed and wiggled his fingers beneath the turtleneck, making Baekhyun squirm. “I would do it again even. If I could.” 

“You can. You can but I need to know where this is going.” Baekhyun finally forced himself to look at Jongdae. “No matter what’s your decision, you can bite me again, but  _ Christ _ , I need to know where we are heading with this!” 

Jongdae shrugged, tips of fingers pressed flat to Baekhyun’s neck. His pulse was persistently rapid, despite Baekhyun’s best attempts to tap it down. Jongdae sighed and his hand moved to securely rest on Baekhyun’s nape. His touch lingering and cold through the thick fabric.

“I’ve never dated a human. Not after turning,” he admitted suddenly. “I didn’t really date anyone, since… you know. I thought it would be… deceiving because my heart would never skip a beat when I look at my date.” he gulped, struggling to continue.

“Because it doesn’t beat anymore.” Baekhyun prompted quietly. 

Jongdae nodded, clearly finding it hard to speak. His fingers slid down Baekhyun’s spine.

Baekhyun made a small noise at the back of his throat. 

“I don’t really care about that though,” he said, wondering if he had ever said something as honest as that. “I really don’t. Your heart doesn’t have to beat. You don’t need a beating heart to feel.”

Jongdae’s cheek rested on Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“I  _ know _ that. Gods, you’re a completely lost cause,” he huffed, pressing his weight against Baekhyun. It was the first time Baekhyun found the courage to hook his arms around Jongdae’s waist. 

“So why not…?”

“Because I should be the smarter one, don’t you see?” Jongdae buried his face in Baekhyun’s jacket. “I should know better than to set you  _ and _ myself up for a heartbreak.” 

Heart compressed in Baekhyun’s chest. 

“You think so lowly of us?” he asked.

Jongdae didn’t respond. 

“You think that we are too much of a disaster to make this, us, work?” Baekhyun pushed further. “You think that all there is for us is a catastrophe?”

“I don’t want to hurt you!” Jongdae snapped but the impact of his sentence was muted by Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to hurt you either?” the thought of hurting Jongdae intentionally or unintentionally didn’t even cross his mind. 

“Relationships mean pain.”

“Well, that’s morbid!” Baekhyun laughed somberly. He lightly squeezed Jongdae’s waist and looked up at the stars.

_ They really were beautiful.  _

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Jongdae repeated weakly, peeling himself off from Baekhyun. His bottom lip was quivering, “But then…If I turn you down, I will end up hurting you anyway, right?”

Baekhyun’s heart drummed with hope.

“Absolutely.” Baekhyun nodded solemnly and put his hand above his heart, “Oh, the pain would be  _ excruciating _ .”

Jongdae slowly licked his lips, his eyes shining like the stars in the high skies. 

“I’d really, really,  _ really _ hate to hurt you,” he emphasized.

“So don’t,” Baekhyun said simply. 

_ Maybe Jongdae had been overthinking, since the very beginning. Maybe that’s what love was supposed to be: something simple and lovely.  _

“Your heart beats so fast,” he said with awe, covering Baekhynun’s hand with his own. 

“I bet it could beat faster.” 

Jongdae’s eyes flicked up knowingly. 

“Oh, really?” he asked. 

“Yeah, really.” Baekhyun’s voice trembled, as Jongdae leaned a bit closer. His eyes dropped to smugly curled-up lips.

Baekhyun didn’t question himself too much when he leaned in to close the distance. The kiss was chaste and quick and sweet. Much sweeter than he expected it to be. Jongdae grinned and his fangs flashing dangerously - sharp and pointy. Inviting too.

Baekhyun leaned in again and this time Jongdae met him half-way.

\---

It was October, a sunny day in Washington DC and Baekhyun was stuffing his mouth with a tuna sandwich. His diet had improved greatly ever since Jongdae said that he wouldn’t feed on him unless Baekhyun started eating like a normal person (“Listen, you may think that blood is blood but actually what you eat has a massive impact on what it tastes like!”). 

With mild interest, he watched Chanyeol add the final touches to his banner. It looked flashy and loud and angry and Baekhyun liked it a lot, not that he would admit that much.

“Hey, guys!” Jongin waved at them happily, his golden nose ring gleaming from a distance. One of his hands was locked around someone’s wrist as he dragged them closer. “Look, what I found!” he opened his palm, showing a bunch of buttons and pins. “This guy here- what’s your name again?” he turned around.

“Kyungsoo,” replied Kyungsoo, eyeing Baekhyun and Chanyeol with a poorly hidden curiosity. In his beige sweater and khaki pants, he looked like a mismatched puzzle.

“Right! ‘Soo over here said that he made extra pins and we can have them!” Jongin smiled brightly, “Isn’t that wonderful of him? I suggested that he could totally join us!”

Baekhyun grinned, proudly showing the poppy seeds that got stuck between his teeth. 

“Yeah, sure! The more the merrier! I’m Baekhyun, and that giant over there is Chanyeol! All of us manufactured in Chicago-city!” he shook Kyungsoo’s hand. It was cold. 

Baekhyun’s eyes locked with Kyungsoo’s. They were dark, darker than the sky at midnight and flickered with red sparks. Baekhyun felt himself smiling wider before letting go of his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Kyungsoo sat on the ground next to Baekhyun. “From Chicago, huh? That’s quite a distance you had to cover to get here.”

The group replied with a burst of loud laughter and Jongin threw himself into the story of losing his ticket, an hour before the train.

“God, that was horrible!” Baekhyun shivered at the memory.

Chanyeol blushed slightly, “I don’t know… He was so lost, it was kind of adorable.” he mumbled. Jongin placed a soft kiss on his cheek, deepening the blush.

“As you can see these two are completely whipped for each other.” Baekhyun rolled his eyes at Kyungsoo, which made him giggle.

“You say that as if you weren’t head over heels for Jongdae,” Chanyeol pointed out.

Baekhyun stuck out his tongue. “Well, he’s not here so Kyungsoo doesn’t have to know that.” he shrugged, trying hard not to sound bitter.

When they started dating, Jongdae announced that to make it work they had to set some rules. The list wasn’t long and some of its points were more than ridiculous ( _ “7. No bay leaf in the kitchen _ ” - “But I thought that vampires are allergic to garlic!” - “What? No, I just can’t stand the smell of bay leaf.”), but, truth to be told, it helped them understand each other better.

And while usually, Baekhyun didn’t mind following the rules - there was one point that sometimes stung him more than anything. 

  1. _Respect Jongdae’s choice to stay away from the sun._



Because, sometimes Baekhyun woke up in the morning and all the curtains were drawn, efficiently blocking the sun rays, and his neck was sore and his sheets were a mess and he was gloriously naked and Jongdae - without a fail - was always curled in the darkest corner of his bed. And sometimes it was okay because Baekhyun just rolled closer, tugging his head under Jongdae’s chin. But every once in awhile it hurt because he couldn’t help but wonder how pretty Jongdae's long lashes would look in the sun. How golden his hair would be in the morning glow. How his smile would  _ outsell _ the sunlight.

And today - sitting in the full sun, in the park of one of the busiest cities in the world, surrounded by his friends - Baekhyun felt a little bit like he did on these mornings.

“The rally ought to start soon, right?” Jongin looked at the people and platforms around them. He leaned to Chanyeol, pointing happily at one of the banners. It stood for bisexual visibility.

“I think so, yeah,” Baekhyun nodded and crumpled the dirty paper bag. 

He promised himself he wouldn’t sulk. It would be ridiculous to ask Jongdae to give up on years of his lifestyle, just because Baekhyun wanted to attend a political rally with him. 

“I think I’m gonna get myself another Big Tuna Delight, anyone’s down for one too?” Baekhyun stood up, brushing off his black jeans. He would  _ not  _ sulk. “No? It’s your loss then…” 

“Sandwich, gods, for real? Can’t you eat something more nutritious? Didn’t we talk about that?”

Baekhyun felt a thunder go through his body and the oil-stained paper-bag fell to the ground, quietly rolling down the alley.

“It’s impossible,” he whispered shakily, as his sight went hazy. 

_ All he could see was a splash of brightness - sharp at the edges and golden right in the middle. _

Because, suddenly the whole  _ goddamned _ Washington DC vanished and the world became rather irrelevant, save from one single person armoured with massive sunglasses and long, light patchwork coat.

_ The earth was once again out of its orbit but Baekhyun had learned how to fly a long time ago. _

Jongdae stepped closer, close enough for Baekhyun to hook his arms over his neck and press his face into the crook of his collarbone. He smelled like herbs and weed and wind and freedom. He also smelled like a starry night - even as he stood in the full sun.

“You weren’t supposed to be here.” Baekhyun mouthed into his skin and Jongdae laughed. “It isn’t nighttime yet” he cuddled closer, not sure how to express himself.

Jongdae snorted, kissing Baekhyun temple, “As insightful as ever, I see.” 

“Oh shut up.” Baekhyun felt himself giggle. “You know what I mean. It’s against your  _ rule _ .”

“Well… It’s important for you, isn’t it? So it’s worth breaking it.” Jongdae pressed his nose beneath Baekhyun’s ear, “Besides, didn’t we talk about this already?” he tilted his head back, forcing Baekhyun to look at him. His dark eyes hidden behind equally dark sunglasses. “I’d never pass an opportunity to be a pain in the government’s ass.”

_ Maybe, _ Baekhyun mused,  _ it didn’t really matter if they were standing under the silver moonlight or blinding sun. Because maybe, what they had ahead was much brighter than any of those, _ he thought.

And then he pressed kissed Jongdae deeper than it was probably acceptable.

But he didn’t care. And neither did Jongdae.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all know what End Notes mean: oh, yes, it's time for me to geek about history a bit:  
> 80s are not really something I research in my free time but! There really was a yellow Lucky Strike V advertisement (designed by Keith Haring) in 1987 (look it up online - it's really pretty). The political rally I referred to in the last scene really happened - it's The Second National March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights, during which the first nationwide bisexual gathering was held! The Vietnam War and Korean War I rather vaguely mention really took life of many young people and led to tragedies of many families and caused trauma for many kids and teenagers (what I mean to say is that war should never be treated as an aesthetic).
> 
> I hope that I did justice to the 80s (among other things, historically-wise it was very interesting era) and I hope I did justice to the idea of vampire Jongdae (because, gods, he's hot). 
> 
> Hopefully, this fic made you smile at least once - thank you so much for reading and don't forget to leave a kudos and drop a comment <3
> 
> PS You want to talk more about hippie vampire JD and punk BH? that's okay. Me too! feel free to drop a "hi" @ my twt @sunwritten_

**Author's Note:**

> I carved my pumpkin (her name is Betty this year btw) and decided to post this little baby boo!  
> The 2nd chapter will be up within a week, so don't worry, I just wanted to post at least the first part on Halloween!
> 
> Feel free to leave a kudos, drop a comment (plz) or yell at me on my twt @sunwritten_


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